“All the information you found online was planted for his next case,” Lauren continues as if the guys aren’t questioning her reason for being here in the first place.
“We were a case?” one guys asks.
“Even the rape?” another says.
“The video on this jump drive shows what happens later that same night.” Lauren steps forward, handing over a jump drive to Kincaid.
He doesn’t hesitate to hand it to the man sitting behind the huge computer setup.
“Preview it first?” the man asks.
“No, Max. Play it,” Kincaid says as he turns around to face the huge television mounted to the wall at the front of the room.
Lauren’s jaw flexes as the sound of slapping hips fill the air.
I shouldn’t look, but I can’t stop my eyes as they focus on the screen.
Several guys cough and seem to grow uncomfortable in their seats.
This is the same video I couldn’t watch but a few seconds of the first night we were sold to Javier, only this time it has sound, and the soundtrack is telling an entirely different story.
“Fuck, Javi, I’ve missed you. Hard. God, fuck me harder. It’s been too long, baby. There, fuck, right there. I’m going to come so hard.” I look at Lauren, but her eyes are locked on the screen as well. “Tighter, grip me tight, hands around my throat.”
Lauren clears her throat when the video stops.
“Javier Sosa and I went through the academy together. We were in a relationship for over a year before we went our separate ways.”
You can trust him.
Her words from over a week ago choose this time to pop back in my head.
He’s mine. You see him as a monster, but I’ve known real monsters, and that man doesn’t even come close.
She said all those things, and it isn’t until now that I realize she was being truthful, giving me more information than I knew what to do with.
“Fuck,” Kincaid whispers as he turns back around. “You’re here because you love him.”
“I don’t lo—Javier is a friend. What we had was over long ago. I’m here because the FBI isn’t willing to back him up. They don’t want to burn a case that’s years in the making, but I can’t just leave him to die.”
Max grumbles some shitty slurs where the FBI is concerned, but no one really pays him any attention.
“And this website?” Max asks, his fingers working quickly over the keys. “There are hundreds of girls for sale on here. Should I shut it down?”
“No. You can’t do that,” Kincaid says, urgency in his voice.
What? They won’t shut down a website that’s making it easy for perverts to buy women.
“Hold on,” another huge man says as he steps forward. He isn’t wearing a leather cut, but he resembles Kincaid enough to make me believe they’re related somehow. “The information we got online was legit. Shadow and Max would know if it was fake.”
“Fuck, man. There are kids on here.”
“Leave it up,” the man that looks like Kincaid snaps before turning his attention back to the other men sitting around the huge conference table.
Kincaid pulls out his cell phone as he speaks to Max. “I want you to get all the information we have to Blackbridge.”
“Wait,” another guy says—Jinx is on his chest patch. “We haven’t done that already? We’ve been living on top of each other for weeks, and we didn’t check with them?”
“Hey, Wren. It’s Kincaid…yeah, man. We’re good. Look, I need you to find out some information on a Javier Nolasco. He’s—”
“Sosa,” Lauren interrupts, but she snaps her jaw shut when Kincaid glares at her.
I’m still not certain this is going to work. These men went from pissed to remorseful and back to pissed too quickly for this to work out in our favor.
“Yeah, man. I appreciate it. Call me back.” Kincaid pockets his phone again.
“You didn’t give him any of the information he needed,” Lauren says, her cheeks growing red with anger.
“If there’s anyone that can get to the bottom of it, it’s Wren.” Kincaid looks in Jinx’s direction. “The information we had was solid. We didn’t have reason to believe otherwise. You have more information?”
Kincaid’s attention is now back on Lauren.
She crosses her arms over her chest, mouth forming a sneer. “I’m not telling you another fucking thing until I know you’re no longer planning to kill him.”
“Nice,” one of the guys on the far side of the table whispers. “Fucking hot.”
Lauren turns her head a little to the side and winks at the man before refocusing her attention on Kincaid.
“How long will it take for that Wren guy to call you—”
The phone in Kincaid’s pocket rings.
“Go ahead, Wren. I’m putting you on speakerphone.”
“Hey, you sexy fucker!”
My brow creases at the weird voice coming from the line.
“Would you shut the fuck up? This is business,” a man hisses.
“Is there a problem?” Kincaid asks, looking less than impressed.